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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989258">The huntsman and the healer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra'>litra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fett Fairy tales [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tale Creatures, M/M, Secret Names, Wild Hunt, rule of three</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:34:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Come hear the tale of the Wolffe of Mandalor. He who dined with the fair folk. He who stole the treasure of the Golden River. He who led the Wild Hunt. Come hear a tale of tricks and love and magic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bant Eerin/Reeft, Plo Koon/CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fett Fairy tales [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Star Wars Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>while this story is part 2 in the series and references the previous story I like to think it can also stand on its own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once upon a time there was a village. You would not know it's name for at the time of this story it was just one village among many hand there was no reason for it to be noted, and since then it has passed into memory. This village sat in the foothills of the mountains, surrounded by woodlands and fields where goats were tended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this village there was a girl. One day she went into the woods to pick mushrooms and returned with a fabulous tale. She had seen a small man with a large sack walking through the woods.  As he made his way around trees and over roots his sack came open and she was able to see that it was full of gold and sparkling gems. Curious, she followed the little man until he came to the banks of a mountain stream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There the man called out and a woman more beautiful than any flower rose out of the water. He spoke to her, showing her each treasure he carried. One by one he compared the treasures to her beauty and found them wanting, tossing each into the river.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When at last his sack was empty, he knelt before her with empty hands. He said he had nothing to offer but his love. She pulled him to his feet and together they crossed the river, vanishing into a gleam of summer sunshine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the story the girl in the village told. it passed from person to person. Many thought it romantic. Some feared the creatures in the forest. The girl’s brother saw it as something more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy asked the girl to take him into the forest, to that mountain stream where she had seen the dwarf and the lady. She agreed and when they stood upon the bank the boy spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If the man tossed his treasure into the river and then left, then it should belong to whoever can fetch it out." The girl was unsure, but the boy did not hesitate. He stripped off his boots and waded into the water. Soon he found a golden broach and called out in success. When he lifted the broach high to show his sister he found that he could not come out of the river. The water pulled at his feet and legs and would not let go. It was then that the woman the girl had seen before came out of the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You seek to steal from me and so you see justice at my hand," She declared and pulled him down under the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl, afraid for her life, fled back through the woods to her village. When her mother saw her distress and asked what had happened, the girl fell to her knees. The full story tumbled out of her for all to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>News that the boy had been taken quickly spread. Many men of the village rose up in anger. They declared that the river creature must be stopped or she would drown them all. Among them there were those with darker thoughts still. Those who believed that with the river woman dead, the treasure would once again be free to whoever could claim it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so it was that a group of men set out into the woods, each armed with bow and sword and ax. After some time they found the spot where the river turned and golden treasure could be seen at the bottom. Not a ripple marred the surface. There was no sign of the creature. They called and tossed rocks into the river but she did not appear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it seemed no one was about, one man with more greed than sense stepped forward. The crowd watched that first man wade into the river, and greed overcame them all. Together they rushed forward eager for the jewels they could see glittering in the water. It was then that the river rose up without warning. It overflowed its banks as if it were a mighty river in flood, not a mountain stream. The men were washed away, captured and pulled under before they could think to run. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the men did not return the truth of the danger crept over the village. Those who could leave, packed their bags and took to the road. Others locked themselves in their homes, venturing out only when necessary and avoiding the forest at all costs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that a stranger came to the village. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was young, recently gifted my mastery and with no guidance for the first time in my life. I believed I knew better than the villagers for I had been tutored in the ways of the greenwood from the time I was a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I called to the villagers in their homes saying, "Hear me. I am Plo Koon. Jedi and sage of the greenwood. Let me go into the forest. I will speak to this spirit and tell it to go elsewhere. When I return you will know that you will be safe again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The villagers told me the way through the forest, and of the death of those who had gone before. I persisted, and soon came to the banks of the stream. The water glittered clear and bright in the sun, with gold glittering under the surface. I knew the temptation the others had fallen to, and so I did not enter the water. Instead I sought to force the spirit to appear. I went upstream, found stones and fallen logs and worked to dam the river. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took many hours and by the time the river had sunk to a trickle the sun had dipped towards the horizon. One by one the treasures were revealed, each more glorious than the last, but I held firm. At last, with the sky darkening, and the sky painted red with sunset, the woman came forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you come to steal from me too? Do you have no honor?" she cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have not come for these riches, but for an end to this violence. The villagers are terrified. I bind you to my will for this one task. You must leave here so they can live in peace." I thought myself quite generous in my righteousness.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So that they may live in peace?" The woman scoffed. "It is not I who invaded their homes and disturbed their peace. They attacked me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, "And you have taken your revenge for that. Let it end here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You do not realize what you ask human, but you will--" And with that she lifted her hands. The little dam I had created overflowed, and the water swept over us both. I had trapped the woman, and she did as I asked, but the cost was more than I had understood. When I came back to myself I could not leave the banks of the stream. The lady had stood as a guardian between this world and that of the fair lands. Now I was bound to guard the gate in her stead, until magic's end or fool's favor.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I did not see another human for many years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When finally a person stepped up to the bank and looked into the water I tried to speak to them, but they ran. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next human face I saw was that of an old woodsman. I tried again to speak, but he would not listen, ignoring everything I said as if I did not exist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I did not greet the next person who came to the river, merely watching the woman as she bent to drink and then noticed the treasures, now buried and covered by the seasons but still apparent to those who looked closely. I spoke without showing my face, telling her to leave. She looked around but could not find me. After some inner debate she reached into the water and the magic I was bound to took hold, pulling the woman under the surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years passed in this way. Every so often someone would come to the river. Sometimes they would leave, other times they would not. I never saw any of them again. I lost count of the years, for they did not affect me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched the fair lands, and came to know those who lived on the other side of the river. I was not truely one of them, but for a time it kept me sane. The Lady of the Golden River, my host and captor, was not a cruel woman. I learned that she too had been born human, as many of the fair folk were. She had willingly taken up the post of gatekeeper in the years before living memory. Since then she had grown into her role, hiding away her true name. Her lover visited often, telling a similar story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could have joined them. Given my word and name to the forest and the river and become something other than human. I might have in time, when the years wore down my resolve until nothing remained but duty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead I was visited by a boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was no older than 15, wearing torn clothes that were of good make under the dirt and leaves. He limped to the bank, leading a horse that he tied to a tree. He did not seem tired, but the pain and frustration on his face was clear. Moreover there was a touch of magic about him. Not that of a mage, but of one touched by fate. This boy was part of a greater story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy leaned over the water and I made my presence known, appearing as a reflection standing behind his own. The boy cried out, grabbing for a hunting knife, but I existed only in the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where are you? Who are you?" The boy asked, spinning in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I considered the question, then gave my true name, perhaps to spite those who held me captive. "I am Plo. I am in the river. You are welcome to drink, but I will warn you now, you must not enter the water or take anything from this place."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy looked at me, and finally sat on the bank. "I'm Wolfram."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, an equal trade, a name for a name. "A word of advice. Find a nickname, There are those who would use your name against you," I said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded, "My brothers sometimes call me Wolffe." His head tipped to the side as he looked around again. "How are you in the river?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head,  "That is a long story and one I would rather not tell at this time. But perhaps you will tell me how you came to be out this far, and in such a state?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe groaned and proceeded to tell of how he fell from his horse, how he was training to be a gamekeeper and woodsman for the royal family. How the forest where I was trapped had been taken into the care of the crown some years back but no one had properly mapped it, and so the task had fallen to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I happily acted as a sympathetic ear and wished him well when he left. I did not expect to see him again, but some days later he returned and stood on the bank frowning at the water until I appeared to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I knew you were real," He said to me. "My brothers said I must have dreamed you or hit my head, but I was right."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, "You were, but you must not speak of me casually. This river is a special place. Only a few people can find their way here, and it's dangerous for anyone else." In truth it was dangerous for him as well but as my only company for some time I was loathe to scare him off. Wolfram nodded as solemn as I could wish and again we talked until it was time for him to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We soon became friends. He visited often in the summer and fall. I soon marked time by how long it had been since Wolffe's last visit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the first snow settled on the forest I accepted that I would not see Wolffe until the spring and the winter was all the colder for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friend returned months later, when the last of the snow was melting on the ground and the first hint of spring could be seen on the trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're still here," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am. It's good to see you." I knew then that this boy would change things for me. The magic was still around him, and I could have pulled him into my story, but I dared not. He was not for me. I would not put that on him, no matter how much I enjoyed the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years passed and we spoke. Not often, but often enough. Wolffe told me he was the third son of the duchess. He told me of his father’s death, two years before I had met him. He told me of his studies and training. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I did not age, but Wolffe grew from a gangling teen into a strong young man, then into a man who knew his place and his purpose. He had a natural stillness to him that did well in the forest. Though he claimed not to like the pageantry of it, his rank suited him. He could have been a leader of men if he chose, but it seemed he was happy with his hunting hounds and the forests that were left to his care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Wolffe would have been 25 he stopped visiting. I knew it was not that he had stopped believing in what amounted to an imaginary friend. I'd seen the magic around Wolffe growing stronger as the years wore on. As the days turned into months without a visit, I forced myself to accept that I might never know what happened. There were as many stories that ended in tragedy as in success, and trapped as I was I could not learn which way  his story would turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then as the tail end of summer cast lazy heat over the forest, Wolffe returned. His dark hair had been cut short. His normally dark skin was less tanned as though he'd spent the last few months indoors, and most noticeably there was a large scar across his right eye, turning the blue a shattered white. Even his hunting leathers looked different, well cared for but placed in such a way as to be armor rather than simple protection from brambles. The hounds that ran beside his horse were well trained enough to wait until he called out for a rest before they scattered to drink or flop down in the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe looked at my stream, and I looked back at him, drinking in the changes, in the man I had come to care for so deeply. Finally he seemed to relax. He looped the reins of his horse over a branch and let himself slump onto a stone on the bank. I showed my reflection sitting beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It has been some time my friend." I wanted to say more, but the words did not seem to fit, and so I fell back into the silence I was so accustomed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it's been quite a ride." Wolffe leaned back, relaxing another notch. "I've missed you. I wanted to visit so many times these last few months but..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. The magic around him had settled. A brand like the scars on his skin rather than an open wound, red and leaking into his aura. Whatever story he had been a part of had found an ending, and he had survived. I did not ask, but he offered up the details anyway. The story or how his youngest brother had been drawn into the weave of magic that protected their kingdom, and the Jedi who had come and ended their torment. I drank in the story, only letting my attention fade when he told of the moth since the spell had ended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It seems you've had quite a time of it. I'm glad you came out of it as well as you did. And... I'm sorry I could not have offered my help."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, looking out over the water. "It's fine. I know you have your own troubles. With how Ben has talked, I know you must be caught in something too." He met my gaze and asked the question I had never dared answer before. "Will you tell me? A story for a story?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hesitated. The danger I had been guarding against, tangling his story with my own, was done. I still hadn't planned to speak of it, but the way he had phrased his request, a deal... I had been in the company of the fair folk long enough to be tempted. Stories were a kind of currency and by telling me he had put me in his debt. A tale for a tale was a fair trade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words slowly slipped from my lips, telling of the history that you now know.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Wollfe listened patiently, watching Plo’s face, the way the markings around his eyes and down his jaw shifted with each expression. He had a feeling it was important so he focused on remembering each sentence, how Plo said them, which words he chose. The story didn't seem that long, but by the time Plo had finished the sun had dipped lower in the sky, skirting the edge of the mountains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for telling me," Wollfe said when Plo had finished. "I'll remember it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo nodded. "You should go, before it gets too late."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wollfe wanted to reach out. Wanted to take Plo's hand, and pull him in: just hold him until he lost the shadows in his eyes and slump in his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn't. Touching the water would only get his fingers wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and whistled, the four dogs he'd brought along all perking up. Boost jumped to his feet, tail wagging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll visit again soon," He promised Plo. He checked his horse, mounted up, and waved the dogs ahead of him as he slipped between the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been years since he'd first met Plo, and ever since that first day he'd thought of the other man as a friend. A part of him had always known that Plo must be trapped there. If the river had been some kind of mirror, then Plo would have aged and there would have been times that he didn't appear when Wolffe called. Knowing it for a fact still made him angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he reached the castle, he had come to a decision, and had the start of a plan. His brothers had already eaten and dinner was being cleared away. He made sure his animals were properly cared for, snagged a few of the leftover rolls, and joined Obi-Wan by the fire. The other man was reading but he looked up when Wollfe joined him. They'd never had much reason to talk. Wolffe spent all his spare time outside and Obi-Wan preferred his books. They were both perfectly polite, but that was the extent of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't mean to assume, but you look like you have something to say," Obi-Wan said, setting his book aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need..." Wolffe considered, "Advice I guess, but I'm not sure about any of these magic rules. I don't want anyone else dragged into things because of me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan sat up straighter and turned to fully face Wolffe, "Did you speak with one of the fair folk?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both knew that would have broken the peace they'd won a few months back. Wolffe quickly shook his head, "no."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you make anyone any promises, even idle ones, in jest?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again Wolffe shook his head, "No."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you tell anyone your name? Not just your nickname, but your full true name?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not that stupid. It's just. I've heard you talking with Boba about stories..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The stories as the bards tell them reinforce the paths that magic can travel in. It's like a river wearing away at a stone. Each telling makes the path a little deeper. It's one of the keystones of magic." Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "I think you'll need to start at the beginning. What happened?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a breath and told him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see why you came to me," Obi-Wan said, gazing into the fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I get him out? The way he was talking, I thought--" Wolffe trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A question for a question: do you love him?" Obi-Wan's voice remained light but there was steel under his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe made himself stop and consider it. "That depends on what you mean by love."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Obi-Wan's turn to pause. He stood, checked the kettle had water in it then swung it over the fire while he rummaged through the collection of tea on the mantle. "Love is... Well it's not required to save him but that's the natural path of this story. It's the natural path for all stories about someone trapped. You need something as strong as love if you’re going to succeed. It doesn’t have to be romantic, but if you're just considering it because he's your someone you know and you thought you’d lend a hand then you need to step back and consider what you’re going to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan glanced at Wolffe. He knew he was frowning, ready to dig in his heels. Apparently Obi-Wan recognized the trait. His shoulders dropped a fraction. He poured two cups of tea and came over to hand the spare to Wolffe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You came home, and that means that this story hasn't really started yet. You're standing right on the edge. If you go back to him, this magic will wrap itself around you and it won’t want to let you go. You know what that feels like..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had vivid memories of descending under the castle to a place that wasn't a place, month after month. The whole time he'd known, down to his bones, that that was how it had to be. It was his choice. The logic had been his own. That didn't stop him from questioning how much justification he'd used. When they'd climbed out of the tunnels after Obi-Wan had saved his brother and the kingdom by extension, it had felt like the first breath of air in an age. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he walked back into that, well... It wouldn't be the same, not really. Last time he'd been a part of it, but he hadn't been the center of it. The focus of the magic had been on them as a group, or maybe on Cody, as the eldest. He could walk into this and maybe he'd know what he was facing but that didn't mean he was prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which brought him back to Obi-Wan's question. Did he love Plo? He thought he had at one point. Plo had featured in more than one dream, but every time he'd gone to visit Plo had gently rejected him, telling him to find someone he could really be with, find his own story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and pictured Plo, in his woodsman's leathers and cloak. The short staff he always carried resting at his side. If Plo was a mage, he would know how the great magic worked, like Obi-Wan did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After all this time, why would Plo tell his story now, when Wollfe had accepted he would never have that? The two threads wove together in his mind. He'd told Plo about what had been happening. About the spell and how it was broken...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can someone be stuck in two spells at once?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan looked out at the fire, stroking his beard, "It has happened once or twice. Some people have some spell cast on them and then get pulled into another story, enchanted animals for example. One could argue that I fit that description. I was leveraging the great magic to find Anakin, and then got caught in your story. In that case, the two merged, so in the end it wasn't truly two different spells. That however, is academic. More specific to you... It would be dangerous. A person who takes on too much magic without the talent or knowledge to shape it will either end up as one of the fallen, or at best a wandering quester with no will of their own. In your case it would be particularly dangerous because the magic was on your family, not just you. Seven brothers. If you left, then the pattern would break. It might have just grounded itself, or it might have driven you all mad."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe thought back over the last few years. Even before the monthly attacks they had all stayed close to home, even himself.  He was trained to spend weeks at a time in the wilderness, but he'd always found himself headed back after a single night. Rex was captain of the king’s guard, but he hadn't been out to inspect the borders in at least three years. It was true they were at peace but it still should have been done. They hadn't gone to spend time in any of the hunting lodges or if they visited friends they always found some excuse to return before they'd been expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's done now, isn't it? With the spell gone?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes. It's done. I've been checking on how the magic has settled regularly. You'll always have certain protections and such but you won't be compelled as long as you stand by your family. That story is done."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe relaxed a bit, looking down at the dregs of his tea. "So... So it's safe for me to help him, if I choose to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Obi-Wan's voice was quiet as he shook his head. "It will never be safe, it's simply not more difficult." Obi-Wan studied him for a quiet minute. "You want to help him don't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. "I do. I'm not sure if I love him, because we've never had the chance for that. I care about him. It-- He's my friend. If he asked me, I would have helped him earlier today. I would have dived into the river or whatever he told me was necessary. He left it up to me. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't at least try."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Even if it means your life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, "Even then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan let out a slow breath. "Then I will do what I can to help you." Obi-Wan looked back at the fire, then nodded to himself. "Go, pack what you need, but pack light. Take nothing personal that could be used as a link back to you. Then get some sleep. I'll have everything ready at the front gate at dawn."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe frowned. He had questions, but he wasn't sure they were the type of questions that should be asked, or that Obi-Wan would answer if he did. Instead he stood and went to pack. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wolffe was used to waking before the dawn. He slipped out through the castle with his pack and saddled his horse without seeing anyone. His dogs lifted their heads, or twitched their tails. They wouldn't understand being left behind, but could he really justify taking them along? He wasn't even saying goodbye, though he was sure Obi-Wan would explain things.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Udesi," he said softly, telling them to rest. They put their heads down, letting him slip away. As he made his way out of the castle there was a hint of something at the edges of his senses, a potential that he almost recognized. He hadn't even left the castle and the magic was already hovering over him. He wondered what would happen if he turned around and went back to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook off the thought, steeling himself for what was coming as he saddled his horse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he turned the corner, and saw the main gates standing open. All the guards were gone. Obi-Wan was waiting for him, and he wasn't alone. Wolffe's steps faltered as he looked over the faces of his brothers, his mother... The first rays of morning caught in Rex's hair, as the wind tugged at robes and cloaks. His mom had tears in her eyes, but she managed a smile and a nod for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe stepped up to her. "I'm sorry. I have to go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know my son," She glanced at Obi-Wan who nodded, when she spoke next her words were carefully chosen and almost echoed in the chill of the morning.  "You are my darling son, and so as you go, I give you this cloak. May it protect you and shelter you from all the ills of the world for it was woven with a mother's love." She held up a simple gray cloak without adornment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he understood. Wolffe took the cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. He wondered if he should say something, but before he could come up with properly ritual words, Cody was stepping forward, the rest of his brothers only a step behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are our brother. We give you this blade, for though our paths split for a time, you will always have our strength at your side."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took the long dagger, and strapped it to his belt. He had other weapons but this one felt right in his hand even though he'd never held it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother's stepped back and Obi-Wan stepped forward. "If the world was just, it would be your father here to send you off. I am not he, and I have no words from him, but I did manage to find this," Obi-Wan brought out a bundle of fabric. He knelt and unrolled it on the paving stones. It was a suit of mail. Hundreds of interlocking rings, and there in the center a ragged hole that had never been repaired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe had been 13 when his father had died. He hadn't seen it, but he'd seen the space around it. He remembered his father getting ready, Cody and Jax strapping him into his armor. He remembered the blood on the floor afterwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your father was a seventh of a seventh. There was magic in his blood. Not like the magic I use, but the Magic of Iron. Iron in his blood, Iron in the rings that protected him. Iron in the foundations of the castle." Obi-Wan carefully worked one of the rings free and stood. He took Wolffe's hand. "Iron for your home and heritage. Those protections will go with you wherever you choose to travel." He slipped the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand. It fit, even though by all logic it shouldn't have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan stepped back, nodding once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Wolffe managed to say. He wanted to say more, to tell them he loved them, and that he'd come back, but it seemed too much like tempting fate. Instead he nodded to each of his brothers, ruffled Boba's hair, and wrapped his mother in a hug. Then he mounted up, and as the sun rose he headed down the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew where he was going, but the path had never been so easy to find. His horse never tried to turn away. He never had to double back or check for his markers. The trees almost seemed to lift their branches out of his way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he reached Plo's stream, Wolffe was ready to growl at the first person who tried to be helpful. How Obi-Wan could stand to live with this constant flood all the time was beyond him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wolffe," Plo said when he looked down at the reflection. Nothing else, just his name, steady if a bit sad and resigned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How can I free you?" He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go home. This is not a challenge you want to take up," Plo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe frowned, and took a breath to argue, then caught himself as the magic around him struck a chord. It was the strangest thing he'd ever experienced. It hummed through his bones. His teeth felt like they were going to rattle out of his skull. His lungs felt like they were full of bees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," He gasped. He wasn't sure if he was denying Plo, or the magic itself. Either way the sensation faded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo waited for him to pull himself together. When Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, he held up a hand, and shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My friend, you need not prove anything to me. Turn away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Wolffe had time to catch his breath before the pressure bore down on him again. Plo hadn't been able to warn him, but it didn't take a lot of brain power to see the pattern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. I'll save you," he gasped out. Again the pressure of the magic faded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Third time pays for all. Will you turn away?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will not." Wolffe shuddered as the magic wrapped around him like a second cloak. The sun sparkled off the water, leaves rustling all around him. The world seemed bigger and closer and brighter all at once. "What?" He managed to ask through numb lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The challenge of the guardian at the gate. I am sorry Wolffe. I did not want this for you, but I will thank you all the same."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. It took him a minute to work out which spots were just his vision coming back and which actually belonged to the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That a magic thing? Obi-Wan didn't warn me about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo's reflection shrugged, "It doesn't always happen. I admit I was pushing for it a bit. You could have done this without being the hero of a quest, but Heroes do have certain advantages." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe decided to just go with it. "When this is done I'm going to introduce you to Obi-Wan. You two will get along like a house on fire."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm looking forward to it," Plo said with a small mournful smile. Wolffe curled his hands into fists. As much as he loved Plo's smile, he didn't want to see it like that. Like Plo still wasn't sure they'd both survive. He decided to ignore it for the moment. After all, when he won Plo's freedom, there'd be no reason for the sad smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, so aside from what you told me yesterday, what do I actually need to know?" Wolffe asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo gestured Wolffe to sit on his normal rock where it was easy to look at the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The woman from my story is known as the Lady of the Golden River. Her territory spans from the hills above this forest, about a league below the snowline to where this stream joins the Boswath river. She's not the only power in this area, but she is one of the strongest. It doesn't hurt that she has a clan leader from the black-clay dwarfs as her consort."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The one who gave her the gifts in the story?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo nodded, "Indeed. He is called the Loam Forger. He is a skilled crafter and still gives her gifts whenever he returns to her. She is said to be quite passionate, though all water spirits are said to be mercurial. He's a steadying influence by most accounts, though he will stand behind her if she gives an order, even a foolish one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. He didn't like the politics of his position. Being the third in line meant he didn't have to deal with that kind of thing as much as Cody or Rex. He'd still had all the social training growing up and knew what to pay attention to. The two fae seemed like a decent enough match. He'd seen plenty of worse ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, the Lady is the one who can release you, but her husband might be able to convince her if things go that way," Wolffe said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If that is the path you take," Plo nodded. "She will not let me go easily. Reputation is a fine coin among the fair folk and the story of how she kept her treasure and trapped me here has won her much."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is there something she would trade for your freedom?" Wolffe asked. He plucked at the grass on the edge of the riverbank and slowly shredded the blade. This whole thing would be a lot easier if he had an obvious goal: kill the beast, pick an apple from a magic tree, something like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She'd trade any number of things. She'd gladly accept if you wanted to take my place for instance. But I don't know that she has a weakness of that kind. Any pretty bauble she desires the Loam Forger makes for her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. There was something on the edge of the idea, something in the air around him that was expectant. The magic was leaning in, like someone at a show, on the edge of their seat. He didn't know what it wanted, what it was pushing him to do and even if he did, he wasn't sure he'd go along with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not going to trade myself for you," Wolffe said. That would defeat the point. The magic shifted, but didn't fade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo watched him, "Wolffe, what is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I feel like someone's watching me." It came out as nearly a growl. "Like I've been called up in front of the guards or my tutors or my mom, and it's not good, but I don't know what they think I've done. I don't know what this magic wants from me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo hummed, "You're more sensitive to it than most. I'm afraid there's not much that can help at this point. It will settle down once you choose a path but it won’t fade completely until this quest is finished."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a breath and let it out through his teeth. "Right. Better get on with it then. Where is the Lady? Maybe once I see her I'll come up with some ideas."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Her home is beyond the gate," Plo said. He gestured across the river. Wolffe had sat on that spot a hundred times and looked out at that patch of rock and woodland just as often. The archway definitely hadn't been there before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you do that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As the gatekeeper I could hide it if I wanted to, but no. It's actually one of those advantages of being a hero on a quest that I mentioned earlier. Heroes are expected to enter magical realms and speak with those who dwell there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe dragged his eyes back down to where Plo stood, hands folded in front of him. "I never asked if this was okay with you..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo met his eyes, and the sad smile was back. "I could have tried to stop you. In truth, you have been one of the very few reasons I have not gone mad from the solitude. I care for you deeply. I pray to all the gods that you come back to me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe wanted to lean in and pull him close. Instead he contented himself with saying, "It'll be alright," before climbing up to the gateway and stepping into another world. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The space beyond the fairy gate was both like and unlike the forest he knew. The trees were the same. The air tasted the same at first, but as he breathed deeply he couldn’t taste polen in the air. Instead he smelled fallen apples and baked stone. The scents of summer when it had been spring a moment before. The sun hadn't moved but the light seemed different, like he was seeing both sunlight and moonlight. He took a step away from the river, except it was still right there beside him. The water looked clearer than it should be, glittering in the sunlight like glass and at the same time the deep blue of a bottomless lake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe had left his horse back in the clearing with Plo, so he stepped forward on foot. Distant birdsong and the rustling of leaves greeted him, the same as any forest. He let his shoulders loosen, ready to pull his knife at the slightest sound. He may not know these woods but he knew forests. Wolffe opened his senses, looking for the natural trails, the bent branches, the spider webs and where the spider webs weren't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a minute of silence he shook his head. The tugging of the magic had become a pulse, a drone, like a bug that just would not leave him alone. Every time he tried to concentrate and block it out it wormed its way back in. This was going to be a very short quest if he couldn't even find the Lady's home. Wolffe looked around again. The river was still at his feet, no matter which direction he went. It felt like it was mocking him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello?" He called in a low voice that wouldn't carry. "I am on a quest," he tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind rustled through the trees. There were voices in it, murmurings that didn't sound like people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a breath and forced himself to stay calm. What would Obi-Wan tell him to do? What would Plo say? He needed to use the story. Tradition. Things were done in certain ways and going against that wouldn't help him here. He was a hero on a quest. He wasn't some lucky thief, he was a prince. He looked down at the ring on his hand. He was traveling in his own lands. He had every right to be here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chose his words, then spoke to the air as if he was standing at his own front gate. "I am the Wolf of Mandalor. I am traveling and come to the Lady of the Golden River baring greetings from her neighbors." Manners and formality were important in all the stories he could remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A light wind picked through the branches and the murmuring briefly swelled until one voice came clearly through the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It has been some time since a human on a quest found their way into my home." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolf turned towards the voice and the forest turned with him. The trees fell into rows, forming the pillars of a grand hall. The ceiling was a mosaic of interwoven leaves and branches, hung with golden lanterns. Wolffe staggered back, as he realized he was standing on a floor made of glass. It must have been glass because otherwise he seemed to be standing on the surface of the river.  Small river fish swam below him between river grass and dappled pebbles. The glint of gold caught his eye. There were treasures under the water, so tempting he could almost touch them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watchful eyes pulled his attention up from the glass floor. Twenty feet away a throne of woven willow branches sat at the head of the room. There was a woman on the throne. She had skin the rich orange of a koi fish and large liquid black eyes that pulled up at the corners. Her mouth was wide, with full lips. At first Wolffe thought she didn't have any hair, until she tipped her head and a long ribbon-like wave shifted behind her shoulders. She was as much a fish as a woman, with an eerie beauty that merged the two sides of her. Even her dress emphasized her otherness. It was a soft blue, made of a hundred little ribbons hanging from her neck and off her arms, accenting the curve of her hips and chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe didn't meet her eyes. He'd learned that lesson from the witch under the castle. Instead he dipped his head in a respectful bow so all he could see of her was the bare feet that trailed through the floor as if it wasn't solid. He noted that her feet were webbed and had too many toes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around the lady was a small crowd; two large herons, an otter, a pair of plump beavers, and half a dozen ducks. At a glance they seemed normal, like the woods had before, but longer looks provided the truth. The animals had human eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shook him. Wolffe had been prepared for the Lady's type of otherworldly beauty. He knew how to shield his mind from the temptation of it. This place, the way it was almost normal, it was a different kind of trick, one that would be all too easy to fall for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Those of Mandalor are known here. They are known to be great warriors and leaders, but I have not heard of a wolf among them. Such a reputation carries great weight. What proof do you have that they are truly your pack?" The lady's voice sounded like water over rocks, bubbling up in little joyful notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tightness inside Wolffe's chest eased, and he sent a silent thank you to Obi-Wan. As he straightened he lifted his fist, the iron ring glinting on his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The old Duke was a man of iron. This was his. It holds the magic of his blood. The magic of my blood. The magic that protects this land as I do." He nearly put a hand on his dagger. It would have felt good to feel his brothers beside him. Instead he pushed the press of expectant magic away and waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lady looked at the ring with something dark behind her expression, then nodded. "I will hear you, Wolf of Mandalor."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe straightened, and fell back on the manners he'd learned his whole life. "Thank you Lady. I do hope I have not interrupted your day. I did not know I was coming or I would have sent word ahead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lady nodded, "You have, but it may be forgiven. Certainly the tedium of day to day life is far less entertaining than a new visitor, and one with the reputation of your people." She rose from her seat, the animals scurrying out of her way or stepping aside as their nature demanded.  Wolffe noted that several of the ducks had message scrolls and the beavers carried some kind of chest that might have held fishing tackle or a carpenter's tools. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe ducked his head again, this time offering a hand so the lady could step down from the dais.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There are not so many stories that one may be ignored, you must tell me of your quest." She took his arm and guided him forcefully to stand in the center of her court. A wave of her hand summoned a tray with wine and two cups carried by a group of fluttering lights. She poured for them both, forced the goblet into his hand and draped herself over her throne again. The animals gathered around and settled themselves like children waiting to hear a story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe had never boasted about being good with words. Cody could match anyone at court when he put in the effort and Rex had a biting wit. Kix was always quick with a comeback. Echo could spout random facts he'd read about and Fives seemed to collect vocabulary from the guard, but him... He tried to choose his words deliberately, but he didn't have the elegance Obi-Wan casually flaunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lady was watching him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I--" He didn't want to lie, but he had no idea how she'd react to the idea that he was there to take away her gatekeeper. "I'm searching for a way to free one I love."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, her eyes closed as if she'd bitten into a ripe peach and wanted to savor it. "A quest for love. The oldest of stories." She leaned forward, resting her chin on one elegant webbed hand, "Go on good wolf. I'm sure your tale will be worth hearing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something sharp in her gaze. Wolffe didn't know what she would do if she thought his story wasn't up to her standards, and he didn't want to find out.  He swallowed, around a suddenly dry throat, and lifted his cup trying to buy himself another moment to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gracious Lady."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe froze at the sound of Plo's voice. For the first time in his life it wasn't distorted by the ripple of the stream. Wolffe turned and there he was, ankle deep in the glass of the floor, but real, and human and... giving Wolffe a look of frustrated exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Wolffe asked the room in general. If Plo could be here then why hadn't he entered with Wolffe? Why make such a fuss about the gateway? Or if it was another strange magic rule? Why show up now? Was there a threat? Wolffe moved to put his hand on his dagger and froze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wine was still in his hand. Fairy wine. He'd been a moment away from drinking and... His mind raced through the stories. Was this one of the ones where eating or drinking something would trap you or was it one of the ones where not drinking would insult his host?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My gatekeeper," the lady twisted her hand in the air summoning him forward. Her voice and expression had turned sour. "Who it seems has been neglecting his duty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo struggled forward, wading through the floor. Each step seemed to take more of an effort, like he was holding himself against a fierce current, despite how everything else under the glass floor seemed calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apologies my lady, I have no excuse. Will you allow me to remove this intruder?" Plo bowed, and stayed there, waiting for her judgment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe switched his cup to his off-hand but didn't draw his dagger yet. He wanted to ask what Plo was doing? Was this some test he was expected to pass? Had Plo changed his mind? What was he expected to do if it came to a fight? He couldn't draw steel against Plo, not when he was there to save him...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lady was watching him. Wolffe schooled his features. Manners, he reminded himself. Manners and no promises that he wasn't prepared to follow through on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it your wish that I leave, Lady? I do not want to cause unneeded trouble."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lady tilted her head, her hair pouring down over one shoulder. "No, I expect not," She said. She seemed back to being distantly amused at least. "And I had wanted to hear of your adventures... Very well, I will offer you the hospitality of my home. You may stay as a guest, and call me by the name Eerin while you stay here. Away with you gatekeeper, back to your duties."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo bowed a little deeper, or maybe he was slumping into the river. How much danger had they been in? Wolffe's determination to free him burned a little hotter in his chest. He forced himself not to watch as Plo turned and faded into the woods at the far end of the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now I believe you were set to tell your story," Eerin prompted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. He looked down at his wine again. He was a guest now, even if he hadn't been before. He might be here for some time. There was food in his bag but eating it instead of what she offered would be an insult to his host. Better to spring the trap now than get caught in it later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting his glass he called, "A toast to your generosity Lady Eerin." The wine was rich on his tongue. He took barely a mouthful, but it made his head swim like he'd been at the tavern all night. He waited to pass out or lose control of himself. He waited for the Lady to declare her victory. Instead she just nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will tell you a story of the midnight lake and how my brothers and I fought the Witch of the Bloody Circle." Wolffe said, and they all settled in to listen. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wolffe had barely started his story when the sound of a distant horn echoed through the trees. He paused, glancing at Eerin. She stood and looked towards the entrance to the watery glade. Plo appeared a minute later, stepping out of the mist and bowing to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There are guests at your gate. The dwarfs of the granite hills, led by the Loam Forger. Shall I grant them entry?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin's smile lit up the room, "Yes, show them in." Plo turned to leave and she turned to Wolffe, "You'll excuse the interruption. Your story is a fine one and I will hear the end of it but..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." He stepped aside, trying not to jostle any of the animals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were five dwarfs. They had rich brown skin, and when they removed their hats he saw their heads were clean shaven with intricate markings over the crowns of their heads. The obvious leader was thicker set than the rest, and Wolffe couldn't tell if it was due to hidden muscle or a rich diet. They all wore thick leathers with metal plates over their shoulders and calves. One of them had a short bow. Another carried a spear with a green and white standard. Two of the others carried a small iron bound chest between them. The leader had a long handled hammer tucked into his belt. He drew out the hammer, planted his feet shoulder width apart, brought the hammer down between them and then bowed over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lady, your beauty and grace grows with each dawn. I have come with a gift so that I might earn your favor for a few nights more."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin giggled, skipping forward like a schoolgirl. She bent, drawing him out of his bow so he could kiss her. "My love you flatter me. I would never deny your company, gift or no."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And so you prove your generosity as well as your wisdom. Still, the gift is here if you would see it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two dwarfs carrying the chest were already stepping forward. Wolffe had to wonder how much of the script he was watching had been played out dozens of times before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Forger opened the chest drawing out a butterfly the size of his hand. It had wire framework wings made of nearly translucent silver. Amber and onyx captured the light, making its wings glitter. Wolffe thought it was some kind of hair clip until the dwarf spoke a magic word and it clicked to life. The clockwork butterfly circled them both once before settling again on his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have never seen a gift so cleverly made or so beautiful," Eerin said, clapping in delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And yet not half as beautiful as you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Wolffe had expected the Forger casually tossed the butterfly aside. It didn't clatter against the glass floor as he half expected. It's wings fluttered and it landed as softly as if it were a living creature. Wolffe watched the butterfly settle and go still. The floor beneath it dipped slightly. It would sink down to join the other treasures, he was sure, but for the moment...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That expectant feeling from the magic around swelled again. He had a choice. Was it really that simple? Did he dare make it that kind of story? Eerin wouldn't like it. Neither would Plo, but there wouldn't be a story without an element of risk, and he really wasn't cut out for these politics...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My Love, come meet the other guest who has graced my door this day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe turned his attention back to his host as she made introductions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is the wolf prince of house Fett. He has been sharing the story of his brother's victory over the Witch of the Bloody Circle."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, I am sorry to have missed the start of your story," the Forger said looking him over. He had his thumbs hooked into his belt beside the hammer he'd tucked away again. The other dwarfs had stepped back, finding places with the Lady's court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I suppose I could start again if it wouldn't bore everyone." Wolffe had a feeling he'd end up telling the story more times than he liked, but at least it was a safe topic, relatively speaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you would," Eerin paused, putting her fingers to her lips, "Ah, but you must need a rest first. It is growing late enough." She turned to her court and raised her hands, "Bring out the tables. We must have a feast to welcome our guests. And then perhaps you can tell your story over the wine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe bowed, "It would be my pleasure."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a flutter of wings and a splash of fins the animals in the room burst into motion. All the chairs except for the throne were carried off or pulled into the water of the floor. Tables rose in their place, lifted out of the water by catfish as long as Wolffe's arm. Birds settled on the surface of the tables, delicately setting out the plates and cutlery. Wolffe briefly wondered what he would be asked to eat, and if he'd have to resort to the rations in his pack after all, but the dishes that were carried out seemed innocent enough. There were platters of freshwater oysters, watercress and cucumber salads, soft boiled eggs, sliced summer apples and several types of cheeses he had never seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited for his host to sit first as decorum demanded. Lady Eerin took the head of the table, and gestured for the Forger to take the seat at her left. Tradition demanded the left hand seat be reserved for someone who was trusted utterly, since it was the easiest position to attack from. Not that Wolffe was surprised, since he knew they were already lovers, still that left the right hand seat for him. The place of an honored guest and the seat that was guaranteed to hold everyone's attention all night. Internally Wolffe sighed, but he stepped up and took his place when the time came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin's court gathered around, some of them changing to have slightly more human forms, while others perched or crouched on their chairs as their nature dictated. They talked and squalked and burbled at each other casually, and Wolf thought he could almost hear words, in and around the other sounds. In a way it almost felt like a little girl's tea party with all her toys and animals lined up to play court. Wolffe reminded himself again that he wasn't safe. If he said the wrong thing and someone took offence he'd be turned upon in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the wine was being poured, the Forger leaned across the table and caught his eye. "If we are to dine together then I would not have us stand on ceremony; this night you may call me Reeft."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, deliberately relaxing his posture, "Gladly, if you will call me Wolf." Wolffe was silently grateful that his whole family used nicknames, and he wouldn’t have to get used to a new name while trying to navigate all this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A toast, to friends, new and old," Lady Eerin said, standing to lift her glass. Wolffe raised his glass in turn, settling in to wait for his moment.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe was on his toes all through dinner. It wasn't that Eerin or Reeft or any of the others were trying to trip him up, at least not as far as he could tell, but he never knew how much to say or what questions were traps.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you quest for?" Reeft asked at one point, "And what made you set out?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe paused, glad his mouth was full at that moment because it gave him an extra second to think. "I heard a story of a man under a spell." Wolffe paused looking down at the wine in his cup. His next words came slowly, truth hidden in his misdirection. "I met him when I was a boy. We never talked about love. I've never even held his hand, but he's as dear to me as my own family. I couldn't just leave knowing he was trapped..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft nodded, "You did what you must, and here you are." He lifted his cup, "And may your love welcome you when your quest is done."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heron sitting next to Wolffe tipped its head back and let out a cry. Wolffe barely stopped himself from flinching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He asked if you've been traveling long," Eerin interpreted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, no, not long. We're still well inside the borders of Mandalor, and I'm used to camping out for days at a time," Wolffe said, looking back and forth between the Lady and the bird. He decided then and there that if he ever got used to this he'd hang up his hat for good. He was almost glad when the last of the food was cleared away and the table turned to him expectantly. The attention was still odd, but at least he knew what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting his glass Wolffe stood, bowing to his hostess and her lover. "To tell the story from the beginning I'd need to go back to my father and his last stand, but for my brothers and me it really started just over a year ago." He pushed back his chair and walked around the table as he spoke. Over dinner he'd had time to organize his thoughts. The words came easily, the magic present and listening, but not pushing at him for once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came to Boba opening the wall under the castle he held up his hands, pushing aside an unseen barrier. When he came to the challenges at the midnight lake he drew his dagger; ready to face an invisible foe. When Obi-Wan snuck after them, Wolffe pulled up his hood and wrapped his cloak around him. When Obi-Wan was revealed, he opened his cloak and tossed it aside letting it flutter to the floor. When Obi-Wan fought the Witch's champion he stood transfixed as if seeing it all over again, the knight in black, the fire of his sword...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe came back to himself when he finished the story. He ended on a triumphant note. He and his brothers going home to waiting family. His audience applauded, hooted or called out, and the Lady stood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A fine story, well told. A toast to your family, may they be happy and healthy for all of their days." She lifted her cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few of his audience started to move. A cup of wine was brought to replace his long empty one. An overlarge squirrel padded over to the cloak he’d left on the ground--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, please do not touch that. It was a gift from my mother, and very precious to me," Wolffe said, fear clutching his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The squirrel dipped it's head, chittered an apology and backed up a step. Wolffe realized everyone was looking at him again and internally cursed. Time to point their attention elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe stepped over to his cloak, but paused before he bent to collect it. "Perhaps the Forger will tell a story next." He lifted his glass to the man, "I'm sure it's common knowledge here but I've only heard the bare bones of how the two of you fell in love."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin and Reeft looked at each other. She laid her hand over his on the table. The way they looked at each other, with soft smiles and tender light in their eyes told the whole world how deeply in love they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would gladly tell the story if your court is not yet tired of it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never," she promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The court settled in again, their attention pointed safely in another direction. Wolffe breathed out slowly as quietly as he knew how. Reeft cleared his throat and stood to start his story. Wolffe bent to his cloak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he begged the magic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>secret and safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wrapped the cloak up in a loose bundle and returned to his seat with the cloth in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The story Reeft wove was a simple one, but it was heartfelt. He and Eerin weren't quite star crossed lovers but they each had their duty. As things stood they could only be together for a few nights each month. Reeft ended the tale in a hopeful way but it was clear he didn't want that to be the end of it. He was hoping something would change and they'd truly be able to be together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe applauded with the rest when the story was finished. By then night had crept over the glen. Fairy lights and golden lanterns tucked into the branches of the trees kept the tables lit, but a chill lingered in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe stood, "Lady Eerin, The company of your court has been wonderful, but it has been a long day of travel for me. May I trouble you for a bed, before you retire to yours?" He grinned as he looked between Eerin and Reeft. There was a scattering of laughter and other sounds in reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Eerin stood and waved to a russet fox sitting a few feet down the table. The fox jumped off its seat and moved to stand between a pair of trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe bowed once more to his host and moved to follow, his cloak bundle held in his arms. Stepping between the trees Wolffe found himself in a tented pavilion. There was a wide cot in one corner piled high with furs and a brazier in the center to provide light and heat. A camp desk and a few chairs rounded out the space. It wasn't anything like the courtly comforts of the castle but it was better than what he normally had when traveling. Wolffe could even see a small water closet behind a folding screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Wolffe told the fox and gratefully sat on the edge of the cot, fingers picking at the cloak in his lap. He could hear the banquet in the distance, and the burble of the river. This was... well, it wasn't where he'd expected to fall asleep tonight. He hadn't known what he expected if he was honest. He'd just known it was something that he had to do, so here he was. Still...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wish I could talk to you Plo. You'd probably have a much better idea of what needs to happen than I do." He rubbed at his eyes exhausted despite the tension still thrumming through him and the magic humming in the back of his brain. At this rate he was going to dream about bees if he managed to fall asleep at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft footfall and a shadow pulled his attention to the tent-flap. Wolffe had his hand on his dagger before he recognized the figure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Plo," Wolffe whispered, "I thought you couldn't be here." He stood, and pushed his way past the other man, glancing out into the shadowed woods. He didn't see anyone standing around listening, but all it would take was one curious bird... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it safe for you to be here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Safe enough for the moment," Plo said, tugging him to sit on the bed again, "And I was able to come because you called for me. As my Lady's guest it would be rude for any of her servants to ignore a call. That said, I can't stay long. There are more things in the night than you know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, taking in the man in front of him. He was almost afraid to touch the other man, afraid that some part of the magic or the story wouldn't let him. His hands hovered between them briefly before Plo caught them, kissing the back of one, then the other. Wolffe's breath caught in his throat, and he slumped forward, his head landing on Plo's shoulder. Plo's smell wrapped around him, all heather and pine smoke and rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is more than I ever thought I'd have with you, and now that I have it, I really don't want to let you go." Wolffe's words were pressed into Plo's robes but they must have been understandable because Plo cupped the back of his neck with one hand, curling into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have me, I'm here," Plo murmured into his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe lifted his face enough to see Plo in the low light. He wanted to kiss him. They'd never talked about it. He had no idea if Plo felt the same way but if he was going to go through with this... He leaned up, moving slow enough that Plo could stop him if he wanted. Plo put two fingers on his lips, halting his progress. Wolffe drew back just as slowly. His eyes were fixed on a point in the middle distance, but he couldn't have said what he was seeing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, I'll-- I'm still going to do this, but-- I'm sorry I shouldn't have assumed..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No my beautiful wolf," Plo cupped his jaw and waited for Wolffe to look at him, "I would gladly have a hundred of your kisses, but that would be the first. Love's first kiss is powerful magic that you may need before the end. I can wait to have you if you can wait as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe couldn't talk. His insides were all mixed up. He wanted desperately to kiss Plo, but had to settle for tipping forward again and pressing their foreheads together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I'm in love with you," Wolffe managed to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In all my hopes and dreams I could never have imagined someone as good as you coming to my rescue." Plo leaned back, and met his eyes again, "Will you promise me you'll survive this? I don't think I could bear it to know I caused your death, however indirectly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll survive, and we'll both get out of this, together."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo let out a breath, and nodded slowly. "Do you have a plan?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have part of one," Wolffe pulled over his bundled up cloak and gently unwrapped it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," Plo said, "That is certain to get their attention."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe rose with the sun. He'd only managed to doze all night so the rising light outside was almost a relief. After Plo had left he'd slipped his prize into the innermost pocket of his cloak and wrapped the fabric around himself, waiting to be summoned. Instead of a messenger a scream of pain and rage had him sprinting back to the main hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He arrived to find a crowd of animals surrounding Lady Eerin and frantically searching the room. Birds flapped wildly, below the glass floor fish swam in all directions, and in the middle Eerin had fallen to her knees. Her webbed hands clawed at the air as she sent ripples through the water. Treasure after treasure came to her hand only to be laid aside with as much frustration as care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is it? Where is the butterfly?" Her voice came out shrill and desperate. "Not again." She lifted her head and her dark eyes locked on him. Wolffe barely had time to blink before she was on him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pushing him back against the trunk of a tree. "Only a human would dare steal from me, and a lover's gift at that. You are lower than marsh muck."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe wasn't sure if he'd hit his head or if it was the press of expectant magic that made him see stars. "I left the banquet before you and I didn't leave my room all night. Are you going to kill a guest without proof?" he gasped, careful not to say anything that could be a lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitated, then rallied, "You will find my treasure, and the thief, and show your innocence."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magic swelled, pressing on Wolffe from all sides. The world seemed too bright, too full of color. Wolffe tried to brace himself against it, even as words fell from his lips unbidden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You set a wolf to the hunt my lady and I will find blood before this is done." He bared his teeth as the magic broke, half in pain and half due to a fierce joy. He snatched his dagger from his belt and lifted it high, "Who will ride with me? Who will help me chase down my prey? Who will join the Hunt?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The animals and spirits that had filled the glade answered his call. Birds leapt into the air. Foxes yipped, badgers growled, and distantly wolves began a round of howling. The prey animals scattered, running for cover or diving through the floor to hide in the river. The group of dwarfs lifted their axes, calling out in approval. Distantly Wolffe heard the dance of hooves: his prey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe leashed his will around the magic. He didn't have the training or the skill for it, but if he was going to be forced into this, then by god it was going to be on his own terms. He whistled, the same call he used to bring his hounds to heel. The magic provided, and a moment later bays and yips joined the eager cries shouting for blood. He didn't know if they were the dogs he'd trained, but in that moment it didn't matter, they were his pack and would follow him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My horse," he called. A part of him expected Plo to appear with the horse he'd left on the shore of the river, but the magic wouldn't settle for anything so simple or sensible. The floor rippled under his feet, and from the hidden depths a creature emerged. A horse big enough to pull a plow with a coat as white as seafoam, dripping wet, with river-weeds tangled in its mane and tail. It looked at him with obvious intelligence. It reared back, pawing at the air and neighing through a too-wide mouth full of fangs. Wolffe shifted his grip on his blade and howled right back. He was the hero of this story. He was the hunter. He would ride, and if this beast wouldn't submit then he'd tear it apart and prove his strength to the next one. The kelpie met his eyes for one more moment then lowered its head and let him mount. For a moment Wolffe's hand sank into the flesh of the creature's shoulder, black tar oozing around his fingers, but the iron ring he still wore, flickered into a near liquid heat. He and the kelpie both cried out. Then he was in the saddle and he shouted for a new reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Find me justice this day!" Lady Eerin cried, her voice somehow cutting through the din. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe tugged at the kelpie's mane, wheeling around and sending it racing through the woods. He could sense the hounds at his heels, and the court at his back. All around him the magic was singing fierce and wild. Trees and fields raced past. He was faster than the wind. Nothing could escape him. All he had to do was find the trail, find his target. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tucked his secret deep into his heart and let the magic take him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The magic couldn’t force him to find himself. He already knew where he was. But the Lady had said to find Justice and there were plenty of people who needed to see justice done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could have been hours or days later before he came back to himself. He only remembered flashes. Moments full of emotion and color like an overenthusiastic painter's interpretation. He remembered forests dark enough for a new-moon midnight, and fields with high grass dotted with boulders shimmering like platinum in the noon day sun. He remembered hearing, or maybe sensing, a worthy target and calling his hunters to heel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They'd found their way to the gray spires despite it being halfway across the kingdom. The granite pillars were dotted all across the mountain pass and normally made excellent hiding spots for bandits. Today the bandits had been the victims. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe looked around the wrecked camp. It hadn't been much to begin with but now the tents were torn rags fluttering from broken beams. The coals from a half-dozen fires had been scattered, throwing ash into the air. A few coals still glowed giving the flat evening light a reddish haze. The wind whistled through the rocks, tugging at the saw-edged grass that was all that would grow this high. It smelled like rain. At least there wasn't much chance of something catching fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few of his hunters wandered through the wreckage. Wolffe spotted one of the dwarfs pulling a chest from one of the ruined tents. A dog sniffed around what might have been a cooking pot. A figure that wasn't quite human, but wasn't really a bear either called out when they found a cask of ale. The sound seemed to echo in his ringing ears. Wolffe didn't think about how there weren't nearly as many bodies as there should have been, or the glint of sickly yellow eyes he'd seen among the hunters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A figure appeared, slapping him on the shoulder, and Wolffe had his dagger up before he recognized that they weren't a threat. Only then did he realize he'd never sheathed the blade. His fingers were locked around the handle in a death-grip.  He closed his eyes and slowly breathed, in then out. He thought of his brothers, and the strength of his family that stood behind him. He could do this. He was a Fett. No magic, no matter how wild or potent would rule him. One by one he was able to peel his fingers open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hunter," a creature like a large dog covered in green and brown scales called. Somehow Wolffe knew it was talking to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Here, what is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have found the riches these ones guarded. The spoils are yours to claim."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe shook his head. No, that wasn't right. That wasn't why he had done this... "No, the Lady. They go to the Lady." He waved a hand, and the creature dipped it's head in response. There was something else...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe touched the dagger on his belt. The sun was low, they didn't have time to waste. "Gather everything of worth. We return to the Court of the Golden River before moonrise." he called to the scattered figures. He got a chorus of hoots and howls in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Less than twenty minutes later he was back on the Kelpie's back, riding at the head of a procession. Nearly all the people and creatures behind him were carrying something, bags of coins or jugs of wine or trophies from their kills. Wolffe didn't look too closely at that last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow he knew the way back, or maybe it was the kelpie, Wolffe wasn't too proud to admit he wasn't the one picking the trail. Mostly Wolffe just knew that one minute they were entering the edge of the high pine forest and then the next minute the forest had changed, and he could hear the burble of a mountain stream. A figure in brown robes waved a hand to let them pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe's eyes tracked the other man as they stepped into the main hall. He'd been the one in danger, but somehow that didn't matter. Just the sight of him cleared the last of the fog from Wolffe's mind; the magic distant and as quiet as it had been since the start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lady, the hunt has returned," Plo announced. Eerin waved him off and Plo faded into the greenery.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe drew himself up, and dismounted. "My lady, I bring you the spoils of our hunt. None is as fine as the treasure that was taken, but I hope it will ease your mind to know there are two dozen fewer thieves in this world than there were this morning," he said, and waved to the treasures that were being laid out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin made a show of looking over the spoils. "You have done fine work. Come, quench your thirst and tell us of your victory." She turned to the room at large and lifted a hand. Tables were lifted out of the glass-river floor as they had been the night before, and soon the smells of roasted fish and hot spiced mead lured him in.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe leaned back in his chair and looked up at the lanterns in the branches above him. Beyond them he could see the moon, clear and bright as it never was at home. The celebration had one on for hours, but at last Eerin and Reeft had said their good nights. By that point the court had thinned out to only a handful of beings. Now, half an hour later, Wolffe was basically alone. There were a few birds nesting in the branches and other animals had found comfortable places to den down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathed out slowly and whispered, "Plo?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He appeared as quietly as the mist he stepped out of. Wolffe rose, steadying himself on the table. He'd had enough to drink that the edges of the world were fading away. He couldn't let himself sleep yet. There was still one more thing to do, and Plo was watching him...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running a hand through his hair, Wolffe checked himself over, then stepped around the table to where Plo waited at the edge of the glade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Plo asked in a low voice that wouldn't carry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, "Long day but I'm fine. Can we talk? I mean without..." Wolffe tapped his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo glanced around then held up a hand. He plucked at the air like he was playing an instrument. A second later Wolffe's ears popped and Plo nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No one will hear us now, though we're not hidden from sight so we'll need to be careful if anyone comes looking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good, good, I..." Wolffe rubbed at his eyes, drawing his thumb over his scar, "I think I need your help." Wolffe swayed on his feet. He wished there was a chair close enough for him to collapse into it. Plo caught his shoulder instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I admit. I had wondered. Calling up the Wild Hunt wasn't in your plan?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," He shook his head, "I didn't even know it was an option. I-- I thought I could trade the treasure for your freedom, but then all this... I think they'd kill me if I showed them now." Wolffe looked around the quiet room. It didn't seem nearly as strange as it had at first. He'd gotten used to the quiet water under their feet, and the constant forest sounds filtering in. It could have been any summer night out in the woods, but now he'd seen the darker side of it too. Seen how quickly the fangs and claws could come out. They respected him, and he had led them, but if that respect faltered...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, it's possible," Plo nodded slowly, "And now?""</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe lifted his empty hands, "I have no idea. I was hoping you'd know what the magic wants so I could, I don't know, pick the least terrible option..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo ran a hand over his mouth. He looked up at the branches above them, then down at the river. He walked a few paces away and turned a slow circle taking in everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I think there's a chance," Plo said, returning to his side. "You stole a treasure yesterday, and now there's another treasure. You need to steal this one too and then a third. Magic is always most powerful in threes. Then you trade all three."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe ran a hand through his hair, "That's... I don't know. That seems like asking for more trouble."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In a way it is, but third time pays for all." Plo looked at him a moment, "This story is about a wild prince of thieves. A force of nature that can not be contained. It is not the story I would have chosen for you but it is the path you now walk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah that seems to happen to me a lot." Wolffe let out a gusty breath. "Okay next question: How am I supposed to steal away a whole hoard of treasure? It's not like I've got some place to stash it, and there's no way I can keep all that under my cloak."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not normally, no. But you are a prince on a quest. In this at least, the magic you've gathered can actually do some good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They found a bag of patched together leather. It was bigger than a belt pouch but smaller than a traveling pack and must have originally come from one of the bandits. It should have only held a few pounds but Plo gestured Wolffe forward towards the spoils that had been piled up on one of the tables. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe checked the room again, making sure none of the sleeping creatures had moved, then he picked up a handful of coins and tucked them into the bag. Around him the magic pressed in on him, as if it was eager to see what he was doing. He shivered, but reached for the next handful. After the fifth handful of trinkets, he looked at the bag. It hadn't grown any heavier. When he looked inside he could see the coins, but there seemed like there was plenty of room left. He pushed a little further, grabbing an unopened bottle of something thick and golden. It went into the bag like the coins and he barely felt the weight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe sped up, grabbing whatever came to hand and slipping it into the bag as quickly and quietly as he could. When the last coin had been tucked away he pulled the bag closed, and tied it shut. The magic thrummed around him eager and playful like a new pup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A bandit's bounty in a single bag," Plo said with a nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I wish I had one of these when traveling. It would have saved me a lot of trouble." Wolffe slung the bag over one shoulder. It felt natural, like it had always been his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Plo, "I guess that's it then?" He had what he needed. Plo had answered his questions. There was nothing left but to slip away back to his room. He wanted to kiss Plo goodnight, to pull him into his arms and lay down together. To whisper into his hair until they both fell asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." Plo said, "Be careful my wolf, and good night."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Wolf woke to a howl of rage for the second day in a row. He left off his small cot and began strapping on his leather armor before anyone could come and inform him of what had happened. The day before he had walked into the middle of things, and while he didn't exactly regret the result, things could have gone better. Today he intended to make an entrance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he was ready and had made his way out to the main hall Lady Eerin had spent her anger and collapsed, clawing at the floor. The glass floor had cracks spreading out from her like visible representations of her pain. Some of the smaller animals had crept up around her, attempting to comfort her in whatever way they could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why will they not leave me in peace? Why must I face this torment?" She demanded of the room. No one in her court had an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the silence, Wolffe stepped forward. "My lady, will you call on me? I will lead the Hunt, and ride down your enemies, until there is nothing left but the blood on my blade." The magic was a single crystal-clear note pressing on his ears. He knew what it wanted, and for once he was certainly willing to give it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up, then slowly drew herself to her feet. "Will you do this for me? Will you be my champion again even though I accuse you of this very crime?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "Just give the word." He loosened his dagger in its sheath, ready to draw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked at his hand, hovering there by the blade. Slowly her eyes rose to his face, and she nodded. In a single motion he drew the blade and turned calling to the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who will ride with me? Who will see justice done?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day before he hadn't known what was coming. He hadn't known to expect the roars and howls as the predators of the forest sharpened their claws and bared their teeth. He hadn't known to watch the shadows for those creatures that didn't truly belong to the forest at all but to someplace other. He'd acted on instinct when he stared down the kelpie. It had all been instinct, and the press of the wild magic thrumming around and through him. This time he knew what to expect. This time he reached for the magic, drawing it in like a fish on the line. This time he pushed forward, calling out again as he lifted his blade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kelpie burst out of the river and he grabbed it's dripping mane, launching himself onto its back. It bucked, but he held on, calling a third time to the hunters who had gathered. Plo stood beside the gateway, watching him with quiet concern in his eyes. He was doing this for Plo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin cast out her hand, and like a flag from the starting line, the hunt charged forward. The wave of magic crested and Wolfe let it take him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world became a maze of scents and trails. Green light blazed through summer leaves. The path opened before him, branches pulling back as if even the trees dared not stand between him and his goal. He was the master of this forest, and all the lands beyond. He was the predator, the alpha, the one who ran through the wild and kept it in check. He was the storm about to break on some deserving soul and anyone in his way had better batten their hatches and hide under their beds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had given his word to see justice done in the name of the Golden River and its Lady. Wollfe was able to turn the magic away from his own crimes. The spoils were his by right. He’d gifted them to the lady out of respect but that did not negate his claim. He was the one who had won them. No, he would face a greater injustice. He would hunt those who truly deserved it. The creatures no one else could drag into the light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe opened the box to his childhood fears. The yellow-eyed stick men who all spoke with the same voice. He remembered their stretched out heads, and two fingered hands, the way they always seemed off balance, but never actually fell over. The way they kept coming, and coming and coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could still see Cody's silhouette standing in front of him, and his brothers. He could hear the battle as the last of their knights were pushed back to the doors of the armory where the rest of the household had hidden away. He could taste the blood in the air when his father gave his life and ended the war. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe howled out his pain, ready to take his long awaited vengeance for that childhood fear. He was the nightmare now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trail was old now, but he was the hunter. He followed it over bare stone, across rivers and fields and through the curtain between his world and the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kelpie leapt over a fallen log and when they landed the forest had shifted. It was older. Half the trees seemed dead where they stood, strangled by hanging moss and trailing vines. Roots rose out of the soil, like twisted snakes while real snakes curled through the branches and hid in still pools of water. A layer of mist sat a foot off the ground while the sky sat low over the branches, rattling the remains of winter leaves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe tightened his fingers in the kelpie's mane, leaning forward over its neck. Around him the other's in his pack had gone quiet. Some of them were watching the surroundings, others were watching him. He didn't know the legend of this place, though it had to have one. On any other day he would have turned away, not out of fear but out of a healthy sense of caution. Even a wolf will be wary when it senses a bear is near. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was not any other day. The magic had led him here to find his justice and he wasn't surprised that the creatures he hunted were in a place as foul as they were. He drew his dagger, the strength of seven flowing down his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To me," he called in a voice that stretched out into the flat silence. The others closed ranks, visibly baring teeth and puffing out tails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first sign of the enemy was a jerky movement in the distance. One of the falcons let out a piercing cry, winging forward like an arrow. It struck, raking at the creature before beating its wings for height. Wolffe saw the figure stagger on stick-like limbs. It let out an almost comically high "Whow" then toppled over, leaves puffing up around it. The crack of twigs signaled more movement all around them, figures that had stood as still as statues, twitching to life.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe raised his blade and screamed along with everyone else as he rode into the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world around him blurred. Time seemed to slip away as he hacked his way through creature after creature, deeper into the gloom of the forest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn't a Hunt. It wasn't what he'd wanted, but it was what he'd asked for and magic was like that. There wasn't space to think about the consequences, about the cut that appeared on his shoulder or the fact that at some point he'd fell off the kelpie to stagger through the mud. He could hear the fighting all around him, cries in a hundred different voices, and the snap of wood as the enemy fell. They might as well have been endless, these creatures, but Wolffe didn't plan to stop fighting. There would be no retreat. He wasn't sure he'd be allowed to run even if he wanted to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe pressed forward, tearing through the stick-men. There had to be an end, had to be something at the center, some point they were protecting or a leader he could kill to scatter them. One by one the others fell back but the magic pressed him to keep going. It was all he could hear. It willed his mind with need and certainty, and desperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The leader came down out of the trees in a mass of thorn sharp limbs. It's landing shook the ground, knocking Wolffe off his feet. He landed in a pool of stagnant water, mud coating his face. He rolled over, started to get to one knee, and got his first good look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a spider. It was the size of a horse with limbs made of swords. Two curved spines framed a strangely human face that ended in twin fangs. Strings trailed from it's back like a cape connecting it to the forest and every stick-man in the forest. And binding it, Wolffe realized. The spider couldn't leave it's nest or the rest of it's forces would fall apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have made a grievous mistake little hero," The spider said in a voice that felt like the rasping of old leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not a hero. Today I am the hunter. Today I hunt you," Wolffe didn't need to say it loudly. He wasn't sure if the creature could even hear him. The magic could though, and that was the whole point. Wolffe levered himself to his feet, his dagger in his hand. For a long moment the spider looked at him, swaying back and forth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It crouched, stabbed forward. Wolffe rolled from the impact. Ducked again when a second limb slashed out at him. He slid behind a tree, back on his feet. The spider was rattling and almost hissing at him. It's legs made a harsh metal on metal sound as it brushed them against each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe didn't see the strike coming. The tree just seemed to explode into splinters. Wolffe was tossed back to the ground. A pile of wet leaves cushioned his fall but he could feel hot blood dripping down the back of his neck. He rolled onto his back, looking up at the bare canopy. Thick strands of webbing interlaced with the vines blocking out the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He panted. He needed a strategy. He needed to find a weakness. The spider was clearly magically strong, even with his dagger he didn't stand a chance. He just didn't have the reach to deliver a killing blow. He might be faster than the spider in the short term but sooner than later he'd get tired and slip up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The strands above him pulled tight. Magic rang through the air around him. Wolffe dodged to the side. One of the spider's legs caught the edge of his cloak. The fabric started to tear, then held. The fabric pulled tight around his neck and shoulders. For a moment Wolffe choked. He scrambled for the clasp. It wouldn't unlatch. The spider tugged, but his leg was as tangled up as Wolffe was. It reared back, then scuttled off between the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe gasped as he was dragged sideways across the forest floor. He wrapped the fabric around one arm, gasped in a decent breath and dug his free hand into the muddy ground. His arm hooked through a raised root. Wolffe screamed as his arm nearly came out of its socket. The spider staggered. It tugged at its stuck leg again but the cloak held fast. The root Wolffe held creaked, the old tree swaying but holding fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe gritted his teeth. He'd managed to keep hold of his dagger, but he couldn't exactly let go of the root to use it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spider made a sound half way between a chittering and a human's snarl of rage. "You are nothing. A little stinging ant. I will drink you dry and turn your hunk into one of my puppets!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have enough of a bite for you," Wolffe grunted back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The spider’s rage rose in pitch until Wolffe could barely hear it. It moved. Wolffe blinked and it was in front of him. He rolled. The cloak wrapping around him. The spider jerked, tugged after him. It stabbed down, off-balance. Wolffe kicked out. There was a crack as one of its legs broke under his heel. It howled, teetering for a moment before it managed to steady itself.  Wolffe used the time to work his knife hand free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugged on the cloak, and the spider was too distracted to fight it. The tangled limb came into range. Wolffe buried his dagger into the joint. A wet tearing sound splattering Wolffe with thick green blood. Another howl of pain and the spider reared back. Half its leg fell to the forest floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe levered himself to his feet. The limb he'd removed was as long as his arm and glinted like silver in the low light. He met the spider's eyes and tugged his cloak straight, taking up a ready stance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Next?" he snarled, showing all his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spider hesitated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around them the wind picked up, rattling the branches and sending whispers through the webs. Without turning away from his opponent, Wolffe took two steps to the side so he could see the nearest tree out of the corner of his eye. There was a strand of webbing wrapped around the lower branches at just head height. The magic sang as Wolffe brought his blade up and cut the strand. The trees creaked as the whole web shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spider was quivering. His face was too strange for Wolffe to tell if it was out of fear or rage. He reached out to the magic watching his every move and when Wolffe spoke his voice echoed off every tree in the hollow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am the Hunter, I am the Wolf Prince of House Fett, I fight in service of the Lady of the Golden River," he lowered his blade towards the creature of his nightmares, "And I have come to end you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spider took a step back, crouching. Its severed leg still dripped blood on the leaves. Wolffe took a step forward. The spider spat at the ground between them. Wolffe ducked back drawing his cloak up but the protections weren't needed. The spider leapt into the branches. The swaying of trees marked his passage as he fled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe let out a slow sigh. He had won. He had forced the spider from its web and had the trophy to prove it, even if he hadn't actually killed the creature. The magic in the air started to fade into a background hum. It took his strength with it. Wolffe staggered, leaning against the nearest tree. He had no real sense of time, no idea how long he'd been fighting the puppets, before he even got to the spider...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The puppets... Wolffe gritted his teeth and started cutting through the webs. He didn't know if the creatures who had come with him were still fighting or if the stick puppets had collapsed once he'd attacked the spider. Either way he wasn't going to leave them ready in case the spider returned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point during his task, the others caught up with him. There were less of them than there had been, and those that remained were bloody, tooth and claw stained red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe bent and picked up the severed spider-limb, hefting it over his shoulder. "Cut down the webs and burn them. Leave nothing left for the puppetmaster to return to." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hunting birds took wing, scratching at the branches, as the rest of the hunters moved among the trees, tearing down anything they could reach. Wolffe watched for a few long minutes before moving to join them. Time drifted around him. He did the task that was in front of him, ignoring the ache in his limbs and the throbbing bruises he could feel forming on a large portion of his skin.  Eventually, all the webbing had been torn down and gathered in the center of the swamp. As the moon rose Wolffe set the pile on fire. Leaving a column of black smoke behind him as he turned his hunters back to the river.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moon was high in the sky as Wolffe led his hunters back into the court. Lady Eerin was on her throne, resplendent in a blue and white gown. Silver lanterns had been hung in the branches above her, reflected back by the perfect stillness of the glass-river floor. Reeft stood at her right hand, while a white heron as tall as a man stood at her left. For the first time the rest of the room was empty and still. Only the faint sound of water over rocks broke the silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe knew he looked as out of place as anyone could, covered in mud and blood with bruises mottling his skin. He hadn't let go of his dagger the whole time. His hunters didn't look any better but each of them had a steel glint in their eyes. It had been a hard fight and they had tasted victory. Stories would be told of this victory for years to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My Lady, the hunters have returned," Plo said, bowing at their entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe lowered himself to one knee, and almost casually tossed the severed spider limb forward. "Proof of our victory. Though the spider escaped, we drove it from its nest and burned the ground behind it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady Eerin rose from her throne. "That creature has been a blight upon this land and I will gladly send the ashes into the wind." She trailed her eyes over him, her expression full of concern, "But I can not say I approve of this. There will be no celebration this night, when so few of my people have returned. Come, rest, and let your wounds be tended to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lady waved. Instead of the banquet tables, a series of soft couches and low cots were lifted up from the depths of the river. Wolffe sat on a chair that was almost sinfully comfortable. A rabbit approached bringing him a cup of steaming herbal tea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she was satisfied that things were underway and her people were being taken care of, Eerin came to sit beside him. She helped unlatch his cloak, and eased his leathers off. She looked at the bruises on his arms with the same frowning concern that Kix had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you a healer?" Wolffe found himself asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I should have been," Eerin answered softly. She bent, dipping two fingers into the water of the floor. When she straightened they were coated in a thick clear paste. Wolffe bit back a protest as she dabbed at his bruises. A second later he decided he didn't care what she did if it kept smoothing away the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft came over to sit with them. He'd picked up the spider's leg and was turning it over and over in his hands. "The woman I fell in love with was as kind as the spring." He said as if to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a flatterer. I only tended to my own, as is my duty." Eerin gave him a look that fell short of chiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not anymore?" Wolffe asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin didn't meet his eyes, instead tending to the wound on his shoulder as she spoke, "Human's have short memories compared to the fae. Generations back there were many Jedi who visited Mandalor. Back then there were doors that could be opened and closed again, passages between your world and mine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There are stories of the betrayal of the Jedi that spread far and wide. The story we tell here is that one of the dark ones, the fallen, had hidden what they were. They whispered falsehoods in the ears of Jedi and Knight alike to set them at each other. The Jedi were strong but they were outnumbered and this was not their land. They fled. Some fled through the ways leaving the doors open behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was young at the time. A human with magic and the title of knight. I lived by a river and used it’s waters to heal. Then the legend of the healing river spread and I became more than I had once been. Soon anyone who came to be healed stumbled into my court. Crossing such a boundry can be dangerous and so I became the guardian. Bound to remain until the stars fall from the sky or magic's end."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a shame, but it's not all bad," Reeft added. He'd gotten out a set of pliers and was twisting at the spider's leg as if it was clay rather than magical metal. "There is a certain respect that comes with such a task, and Lady Eerin has done her job well. Plus this way I can visit when I'm not on the edge of death."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There is that," Eerin said, a smile in her voice. "Getting into accidents as an excuse to come see me never made me very happy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I hate to make my lady unhappy," Reeft said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe was fairly sure he knew the period they were talking about. It was during the time when his grandfather had been young. They called it the Jedi betrayal. Since then no mages had been allowed at court and most people who practiced magic had quietly slipped out of the kingdom. Obi-wan was the first exception in living memory, and only then because he had earned a seat at his mother's table. Wolffe knew Anakin faced sneers and worse just staying with them. So far it hadn't been anything he couldn't handle, but that could change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin tapped his arm to let him know she was finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Try not to sleep on this side tonight. I've done what I can, but you'll still scar, and if you're not careful it could reopen."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, "My brother's a healer, I know the drill."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, "In that case there are others I should see to." She turned and knelt down at a nearby cot, where an otter with a gash across it's flank rested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe settled back. He was exhausted, but still keyed up enough that he knew he would actually be able to sleep. Reeft had watched Eerin go and turned back to the project in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's that going to be?" Wolffe asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A blade I think. The metal already knows how to cut, it just needs to be turned to a better target." Reeft held it up. Now that he'd said it, Wolffe could see the shape that was forming. Reeft had curved the broken end into an almost handle. It still needed a proper grip and maybe a cross-brace, but it would serve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "May I ask you a question? It might be rude, so you don't have to answer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Reeft looked up, "You can ask. I won't take offense but I don't promise that I'll answer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe licked his lips. It was something that had been bothering him, but it had never been important enough to bother with. "These past two days, you haven't ridden out with me. I don't doubt that you're a fine warrior so..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah," Reeft nodded, "I would. I'd gladly fight for my Lady, but this is a delicate situation. While I am a guest here I'm also her equal. In the summer lands neither of us can demand anything of the other without a cost. It's why I can't stay with her. I have my own responsibilities. You are not of Summer and are defending your own name when you ride out, as much as you're defending hers."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't realize it was that complicated." Wolffe picked up his leathers and gingerly eased his cloak over his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is and it isn't," Reeft shrugged. He ran a cloth over the newly forged blade and tested it's balance. Wolffe didn't doubt it was perfect. "There now, I should see that the Lady doesn't push herself too far, and you should get some rest." Reeft set down the dagger and stood popping his back. "I will in a moment."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe barely had to lean forward to pick up the dagger. He slid it into the sheath where his own dagger normally rested. His own dagger, he laid out on top of his leathers within easy reach. Wrapping his cloak around himself, Wolffe settled down and let his eyes close. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wolffe slept light enough that when Eerin and Reeft came over to where he slept, and the morning light revealed the dagger was gone, he knew what was happening from the beginning. Reeft snarled at the sky and the trees, searching in a fit. Lady Eerin fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around herself. Reeft stood over her one hand on her shoulder as he scanned the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Again," Eerin gasped. "The thief came again, even now. If they could walk through my court-- They could have killed anyone here--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not your fault," Reeft said. He had one hand on the hilt of his warhammer, as if he thought the thief might still be lurking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is. These are my people. I promised them safety, and beyond that it is my sworn duty to guard the gateway. The thief has to be using the ways."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe shifted, slowly sitting up. He ached. It wasn't as bad as it could have been but he needed another week before he'd truly be fit to ride out again. He picked up his dagger from where he'd left it, holding it loosely in his lap. Eerin met his eyes, and an understanding passed between them. Reeft bowed his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let the third time pay for all," Eerin's voice rose ringing off the canopy. "Let those who would prove themselves, stand one more time, and finally bring the truth to light."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe levered himself to his feet, and around him others did the same. Otter's and foxes limped up to join them, while water creatures he didn't have a name for crawled out of the floor. The magic was singing around them, eager for the ride, eager for the end of this story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One set of footsteps separated themselves from the rest.  Wolffe turned to find Plo standing at the edge of the gateway, the air shimmering behind him. His heart sang in harmony with the magic around them. He loved Plo, he would do anything he asked and if that meant riding off to face an enemy greater than any before, if that meant ignoring his injuries to prove his worth, then so be it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned, stepped forward. Plo met him halfway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will you wait for me?" Wolffe asked. "Will you grant me your favor when I return victorious."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo lifted a hand to cup his cheek, "Oh my fierce Wolf. I would wait a hundred years, but only if you do not let the chase become you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe frowned, tilting his head to the side. He didn't understand. The magic was singing to him, calling him onward. He knew his role. He was the hunter. He was the strength of the wild. He was the ferocity of the pack, culling the weak and leveling the field whenever one power grew too full of themselves. He had been called to serve and was bound to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo tugged at the back of his neck, and Wolffe let himself be moved. The kiss was soft. A light press of lips. Plo's nose brushed his. He closed his eyes as he felt Plo lay a second kiss over the first, then pull him down to kiss his forehead. His breath was shaking. His dagger clattered to the floor as he tangled his hands in Plo's robe and held him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loved this man. He loved him so, so much. Loved him enough to drown in him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stay with me?" Plo whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded against his neck. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Forget the magic, forget the call this was where he belonged, right here in this man's arms, and the rest of the world could go eat dust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their crystal moment was broken by a call from behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hunter, Gatekeeper, attend, and explain." Errin's eyes had narrowed, and Reeft had moved to cover her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Time to finish this," Plo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded. It was an effort to step back from Plo's arms, but he consoled himself that it wouldn't be for long. Plo stepped forward and knelt, bowing his head without a word. Eerin looked from him to Wolffe and put her hands on her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He hadn't done anything. It was me." Wolffe said as simply as he could. He hadn't spoken loudly, but he knew every being in the hall had heard him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then speak," Eerin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a moment to consider his words. He thought of all the stories he'd even heard and weighed the magic still pressing down on him. He thought of all the decorum lessons that had been forced on him as a child. He took a breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will you accept a gift from me, Lady Eerin?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked surprised, started to respond then frowned. "It is the custom of my people to return a gift in kind."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe nodded, "All I would ask in return is peace between us. No hostility between your people and mine, for a year and a day as humans count it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped up to stand before him. "I would wish to call you friend, and so what you ask could be quite a small thing, while for another it would be a great gift indeed. What do you offer in exchange?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wollfe bent retrieving his dagger from the floor. He shrugged his cloak open, and a muttering went through the gathering as the court noticed that the sheath for his blade wasn't empty. He pulled out the Spider-forged dagger, and slid his own weapon into its place. He offered the blade to her hilt first over his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The gift my Lady, will you accept?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her expression had gone still and unreadable. "You claimed innocence of the theft, or am I to assume that you only took advantage of it, and my hospitality after the fact?" Her words were clipped, lacking her usual melodic tones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As I recall it, I never said I was innocent..." Wolffe wondered how close she was to the breaking point. It wouldn't matter how strong the magic singing around them was if he pushed her into murdering him for breaking the laws of hospitality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft stepped up beside her and gently took her hand. It had been clenched at her side, but as he kissed the back of it, she relaxed. She looked down at him, the back at Wolffe. her expression had changed to distant scorn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A year and a day, and not a moment more." Eerin agreed, "And I expect you to leave my court." She snatched up the blade, turning it over in the light. Only when she was satisfied did she hook it to her belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe took a half step back still bowing, "You are gracious, Lady, but before I go will you accept another gift?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was clear Eerin had been prepared to dismiss him, but now her eyes fixed on him again. "And what would you ask this time? A feather from the sun? The seed of the moon?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ask only that any animosity remain between you and I. We are both leaders of our people. I would not have this turn into a war between our lands, due to one man's choices."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her anger turned to Ice, "If the circumstances were different I would call that a wise request, but if that was the case it would not be needed. What do you offer for the price of a royal decree?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Prosperity." Wolffe stepped over to where his pack waited, and pulled out the plain, lumpy bag that held the bandit's bounty. He knelt before the lady and let the first of the spoils spill onto the floor. It was clear to everyone watching that the bag held more than it should have. Wolffe had no idea if it only contained what he put in it or if the bounty was now endless due to story magic. He assumed it was the latter. If that was the case then even the mediocre rations and small coins would make the Lady wealthy beyond imagining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady Eerin looked down at him. Her expression flickered between anger, frustration and something almost eager. She took two steps away, then turned and stormed back. Wolffe waited, the magic sitting in the air around him like humidity on a sticky summer day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Agreed," Eerin said at last, "The argument remains between the two of us." She held out her hand. Wolffe slipped the bag closed and placed it in her hand. "Do you have a third offer to make or will you now depart?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe got slowly to his feet. "I do have a third gift Lady, and I must ask more than ever before."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"At this point I would be a fool to expect otherwise. Ask."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe gently pulled the butterfly from the inner fold of his cloak. It was as delicate as the first time he'd seen it and somehow remained undamaged despite his fight with the spider and everything else Wolffe had been through. Holding it cupped in his hands he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is a lover's token, and it is love that has truly brought me here. I did not lie when I spoke of my quest. What I did not say was that the one I love is here, bound to your river. I offer this token, and in return I ask that you release Plo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An expectant hush fell over the room, only half from the magic. Wolffe met her eyes for a long moment then looked down at the butterfly, stroking his thumb over the edge of one wing. After another long moment Eerin let out a breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As angry as I still am, I know what it is to live apart from my love. I would accept your gift and the price that comes with it, if only because the great magic clearly wishes it, but there is still the matter of the gateway. I have my duties to my people and can not stand as guard. For you to take Plo's place would defeat the purpose. No, I can not accept." Her head fell forward and her eyes closed briefly. Determined, and steady, if a touch mournful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe's heart fell. After all this time and effort. After everything they had both been through, to be denied now-- His fist nearly closed on the butterfly out of sheer frustration. Even focusing on it, his hands were shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My Lady, if I may..." Plo was still kneeling. Wolffe could never forget him, but he'd been so still and silent that he might as well have been part of the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Speak."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo looked up, "There is one here who might be willing to take my place if given the choice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin frowned. "While there are hunters in my court they are not warriors. While I care deeply for them I can think of none sworn to me with the skills and temperament to take up the task."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"None sworn to your throne, no, but to you..." Plo slowly stood and turned to face Reeft. "For countless seasons I have watched you pass through this gate. You have brought the Lady endless treasures and endless joy. Every time when you depart the laughter fades from her eyes and she is but a shadow until your return. Would it not be a credit to your house for you to take up this task? Would any of your people be angry for you to stand by her side?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft looked at Eerin, then back to Plo. He turned a circle and found the other dwarves who had come with him. One by one they stepped forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you don't stay you'll regret it," one of them said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll handle it back home," another put in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeft turned and faced Eerin. He slowly knelt, meeting her eyes the whole time. "I am at your disposal my lady."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands slowly rose until she was covering her mouth. "Would you really?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Without hesitation," Reeft said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eerin fell to her knees, and wrapped her arms around him. She cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss as tears ran down her face. Wolffe gave them the moment, but couldn't stop himself from taking Plo's hand again. Plo squeezed his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several long minutes Lady Eerin turned, and held out her hand. "I will accept your gift in the spirit it is offered. Plo Koon, Knight of the Ji'dai. I free you from this duty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magic rang through the air as Wolffe let the butterfly flutter into Eerin's hand. Together, he and Plo turned and walked out of the summer lands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe kept expecting something to happen to stop them until he found himself ankle deep in a forest stream, with Plo still holding his hand. He looked at the man he loved, and a smile slowly split his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's over. You're free."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo's answer was to pull him into a kiss.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>“After that it was just a matter of getting back to the castle. My horse had wandered off and we had to cut through the forest, but that wasn't exactly a hardship for either of us. We came out on the south road and that's where Boba met us." Wolffe smiled down at his brother and ruffled his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of the brothers, along with Obi-Wan and the Duchess were gathered in the prince's common room around the fire. The summer evening had set in. Dinner had been cleared away. Drinks had been passed around. Wolffe sat on the floor in front of one of the big chairs. His dogs lounged around him, while Plo sat behind him, running his fingers through his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd told the story as honestly as he knew how. The last dregs of the magic seemed to leach out with the words, leaving the world duller and softer in their wake. Wolffe wasn't sure how Obi-Wan and Plo managed living like that. He'd been on edge every second, even when taking advantage of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do hope I'm not an imposition, but I've been out of the world for some time. A place to rest and get my feet under me would be welcome," Plo said leaning forward and bowing in his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine waved the comment away. "Nonsense, You saved my son. You are welcome here for as long as you like, though I will warn you that the court still looks at Jedi with suspicion, despite Obi-Wan's best efforts."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is a slow process," Obi-Wan agreed. He looked from Wolffe to Plo, stroking his beard. "Well your story certainly explains a few things. If I may?" Obi-Wan looked at Cody, Rex and the Duchess, before continuing. "Firstly you've been gone just over three weeks not three days. That's hardly unusual considering you were in the fair lands, and it could have been much worse."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe sat back. He hadn't realized, but then three weeks wasn't long enough to change much. Vague memories of stories about hundred year sleeps and people vanishing only to return to find their grandchildren grown old flicked though his mind.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, your first hunt was against the bandits of the gray spires. I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the area." Obi-Wan looked to where Cody was resting against Rex's side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a small pass. It completely closes in the winter, but this time of year it's the fastest way to the inland sea, even if it is a grueling, and dangerous road. If you're thinking of the rock-slide we heard of, yeah, that's the area." Rex answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan nodded, "I thought so." He turned back to Wolffe and Plo, "About a week ago we got word from a merchant company that one of the passes had experienced a series of rock-slides. They requested the crown send people to clear the roads and make sure the way was safe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which we did," Cody said, "Even if those pompous asses complained it wasn't fast enough or enough men or whatever else popped into their heads." Rex kissed Cody quiet. Wolffe turned his attention back to Obi-Wan, well used to that particular complaint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fair lands are a mirror of our own. What affects one will affect the other. Even if you only led a shadow of the true wild hunt it was bound to stir things up." Obi-Wan paused and took a sip of his tea. "What concerns me more is your second ride. You called the spider the puppet master, but did it ever actually give a name?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe closed his eyes trying to think back on that fight. He wasn't sure he could trust what he did remember. The magic colored all of it so strongly. "No, I don't think it did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan sighed and nodded, "I thought so, getting names out of the Fae can be like getting blood from a stone. The Puppet-master is a title I've heard of before. My master spoke of it on occasion and others we met up with. The reputation tied to that name is a dark one. Often a mage will think they've defeated or driven off that particular threat, when they are only biding their time. This spider's power seemed limited to the forest, but in the fair lands that could have been more metaphoric than real. It might have been the great magic providing a name or it might have just been a trick of the mind. We may never know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe leaned back his mind swimming with thoughts of the fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above him Plo asked, "Were there any obvious effects? Something that might be tied to the hunt?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cody shrugged, "Word might not have reached us yet, depending on what changed and where."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"True, and that kind of magic doesn't care about human borders, It might not even be in this kingdom," Obi-Wan added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That stunned Wolffe almost more than the rest of it. "You're saying I left the kingdom? None of us have left the kingdom since our father died, that would be..." He lost the words, looking around at his brother's for confirmation. Even before the spell that had bewitched them each new moon, they'd all known not to cross the border.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother's were watching Obi-Wan as carefully as he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes and no. The fair lands are either left of the sun and right of the moon, or as close as your shadow. But I think what you're truly concerned with is the protection your father's blood empowered? I've studied it more while you were away. The spell would never have prevented you from leaving, however it was bound to the land, and so the protections ended there. I can see why you were advised not to leave, especially while you were young. Of course, now the spell has been changed. You went with the blessing of your family, and so carried the protections with you. That's why I had everyone send you off as I did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe slowly relaxed. Even if he hadn't realized it at the time, the fear was still there. Now though, hearing that... He looked around at his brothers. Wolffe had had enough adventures for the time being, but Kix was clearly thinking something and Fives was trying to elbow Echo, who was making faces back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps in the morning you could tell me more about this spell?" Plo asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan nodded, "I'd welcome a second opinion. This kind of delicate work always bores Anakin. In fact," Obi-Wan paused and a distant focus filled his eyes, "I think we'll have quite a bit to talk about in the coming days."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But for now, I think a bed would do us all some good," The duchess said, standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe levered himself up with the rest of his brothers. He hugged his mother, then turned back to Plo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We never addressed where I would be sleeping," Plo said in a voice that was easily lost in the shuffle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't think we needed to. You'll be in my bed, unless you'd rather have a room of your own?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plo stepped close, laying a light kiss on Wolffe's lips, "No. Show me the way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wolffe pulled him close and did just that.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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